


You Owe Me

by shadowsamurai



Category: Waking the Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Subtext
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-01
Updated: 2012-07-01
Packaged: 2017-11-08 22:44:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/448377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowsamurai/pseuds/shadowsamurai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Though both acted as though they had forgotten, neither did. Sequel to 'Will I Ever See You Again?'</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Owe Me

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, I'm just borrowing things for a while and I promise I'll put everything back exactly how I found it when I've finished. Well, almost exactly how I found it. ;)

WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD

"Can we go home now?" Spencer asked grumpily one evening.

Boyd looked at him. "Slacking, Spence? It's only…." He looked at his watch. "Eleven pm precisely."

"Precisely," Spencer repeated back.

"I don't think you've been feeding him enough coffee, Stella," Grace teased.

"Hmm?" the DC said, clearly not awake enough to pay attention.

"Alright, slackers. Go on home. Take Eve with you as well," Boyd told them.

"I'd have to ask her first, boss. Wouldn't want to be that presumptuous," Spencer said, suddenly grinning.

Boyd pulled a face. "Spence!" He groaned and covered his face with his hands. "Go on, get out of here," he muttered, his voice escaping from between his fingers.

There was some noise as the junior officers left, and then a period of silence before a quiet voice spoke. "Here."

Boyd looked up to see Grace standing in front of him holding two glasses of wine, one extended to him. "Thanks." He took a sip of the ruby liquid. "Don't you want to go home?"

"Not just yet. I thought you might want to talk."

"About?"

"This case. You seem quite wound up about it."

"Because we're not getting anywhere."

"It's not always simple or easy, Boyd."

He looked at her, his head slightly on one side. "Are we talking about the case or something else?"

"The case, Boyd," she replied. "What else would we be talking about?"

Boyd shrugged. "I'm fine."

"You're grouchy."

"I'm always grouchy, Grace!"

"You're shouting more."

"Your point is?"

Grace smiled. "I'm not sure. I did have one, but I've forgotten."

Boyd stared at her open-mouthed, and then he started laughing, a sound that started from his toes and echoed around his chest before coming out in a deep rumble. "Oh, Grace."

One and half bottles of wine later, they were both ready for leaving the office far behind them. The evening had been enjoyable, although they had spent most of it in companionable silence, and now the search was on for the number for a taxi.

"There's one in my wallet," Boyd said from his position on Grace's couch.

"Which is where?"

"In my jacket pocket."

"Which is where?"

"On my jacket," he replied, deadpanning.

Grace rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Which is *where*?"  
"In my office," Boyd said in exactly the same tone of voice he'd used to answer the previous questions. As Grace left her office - it was obvious he wasn't going to move - she swatted him on the knee.

A few moments later and Grace had successfully located the wallet, but the number for a taxi was eluding her. "Where is it?" she yelled.

"In my wallet!" Boyd shouted back, sounding very exasperated all of a sudden.

Grace rolled her eyes. "I know that, but *where*?"

"I don't know, Grace, but it's in there somewhere!"

"Oh, for God's sake, Boyd," the profiler muttered. She opened his wallet and looked through the back compartments. Nothing. She then checked the left hand partitions, but only came up with fluff. "If it's not here, I give up." She rifled through the right hand side of the wallet and gave a small triumphant 'ha' as she pulled out a piece of paper. As she unfolded it, Grace was about to shout to Boyd that she'd found it, but her voice failed her as she saw what was on the paper.

She only caught the first three words, faded as they were, but it was enough. She recognised the writing instantly; it was her own.

*Dear* (the next word had been crossed out, but Grace could see it said 'Boyd') *Peter*

For years, Grace thought she had dreamed her meeting with the tall, dark haired, charismatic stranger across the hall. But it had been no dream; it was real and now she was working with him.

*'Oh my God…Boyd,'* she thought, her eyes widening in realisation. Grace quickly scanned the rest of the note, the memory of writing it coming back to her instantly. The recollection of her day spent with Boyd was not far behind it, and with it came her feelings for him at the time.

She was astonished to find that they hadn't really changed. In fact, they seemed to have evolved over time.

As Grace held the note in her hands - the note that Boyd had kept for twenty years, maybe more - she suddenly realised she was holding two pieces of paper. Sliding her letter away, Grace saw there was another note underneath.

*Milkman's bill £4.75  
And you owe me proper homemade cookies, Grace. I won't forget.*

Grace had to read it through several times, despite it being short.

"I forget to put that you owe me dinner out as well."

Boyd's voice, so close behind her, made her jump. "Boyd, you scared me."

"I seem to have that affect on people."

"Maybe it's your brash behaviour," Grace said, turning to face him. She was right, he was close. Close enough to smell his aftershave and the scent was making her feel light-headed.

"Moving without leaving me a forwarding address was naughty, Grace." Boyd shook his head. "I know, I could've found you using the police database, but that wouldn't have been right. And there was no such thing as computers back then."

"Since when has breaking the rules been against you?" Grace murmured.

Boyd chose to ignore her. Instead, he lowered his voice and moved even closer. "I've never forgotten you, you know. No matter what's happened in all the years that have passed, or who I've been with, you've never been far from my thoughts. I honestly thought I'd never see you again, but I'll admit that I hoped I would."

"Boyd," Grace began, starting to feel uncomfortable, but he silenced her with an upheld hand.

"Please, let me finish," he said, looking into her eyes. "I'm not asking for a life long commitment, just…dinner…with me…sometime. Without talking about work."

Grace waited a reasonable amount of time before smiling. "I think I can manage that."

"And some proper homemade cookies."

She grinned. "I can definitely do that."

"And the four pounds seventy five for your milk bill."

"Boyd!"

He just looked at her, his eyes twinkling. "You owe me, Grace."

FIN


End file.
